


Is that a flashlight in your pocket?

by nebulein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Closet Sex, Dialogue-Only, Explicit Language, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-09
Updated: 2007-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulein/pseuds/nebulein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ow, Sam, stop pushing my face into the wall."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is that a flashlight in your pocket?

**Author's Note:**

> A long, long time ago ~~in a galaxy far, far away~~ frayen dared me to “write a little ficlet where Sam and Dean (or Jared and Jensen) are getting it on in the supply cupboard of a POLICE STATION!” Well, let’s say I tried. *shifts eyes*  
>  Beta by the lovely benitle and autumnfades. Thanks, darlings. Any mistakes left are my own. And let’s pretend for this fic that the police supply cabinet is where they lock up their evidence, mmkay?  
> I'm just playin in Kripke's sandbox, don't own nothing, no profit made, no harm intended.

  


“Outch, Sam! Could you please _not_ step onto my foot?”  
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to - Uck. You elbowed me!”  
“No, I didn’t.”  
“Yes, Dean, in fact you did.”  
“Did not.”  
“Did.”

“What are you _doing_ , Sam?”  
“Try-ing to. Turn. A-round. Gee, you’re getting fat, dude. I told ya, Dean, you shouldn’t have eaten that cheesecake all by yourself.”  
“Shut up, bitch. Ow, Sam, stop pushing my face into the wall.”  
“I just need to. Whew. Okay.”  
“I’ll make you take ballerina classes before you try any more of this pirouette shit.”  
“Bite me.”  
“Later. So what now, college boy?”

“Dean, where are you?”  
“Here.”  
“Where’s here? It’s dark, Dean. I can’t even see my hand in front of my eyes. Is that you?”  
“No, moron, I’m _here_.”  
“You’re not helping. Is that-”  
“OW!”  
“-you?”  
“Jesus, Sam, you fucking stabbed my eye out!”  
“I told you not to move!”  
“You didn’t!”  
“Yeah, well, you should’ve just told me where you were. Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine. So what _now_?”  
“Hold on.”

“Why Sammy, that better be your hand under my jacket or this cabinet is really haunted.”  
“Shut up, Dean. Where’s your flashlight?”  
“It’s right here, Officer.”  
“Christ, Dean! I’m trying to work here. Would you stop humping my leg for a second and focus? I meant your _other_ flashlight.”  
“Tsk, you’re no fun. Left back pocket.”  
“Give it to me.”

“I can’t reach it, my arms are jammed here, Sammy.”  
“Right, uhm. Let me try. Lift your left arm a little so I can reach... It’s too tight.”  
“I believe that’s what you said last night, too. Only then it was accompanied by a groan and you scrunched up your face in that way you always do right before you come and then...”  
“Dean! Move your hip to the right and stop talking or I swear you’ll never get any of last night’s again. Ever.”  
“I can’t move, there’s the shelf and you.”  
“Yeah, I _feel_ you. Try lifting your leg, like...”  
“You know, if I didn’t know it any better I’d think you’re trying to seduce me here, Sammy. The way you’re wriggling your hips, feeling me up. Fuck, Sam, watch it! You’re handling our finest asset right now.”  
“Shut up or I’ll pinch you again.”

“No, really, you should know how much balancing on one leg in a dark police cabinet with you groping my ass turns me on. Umpf. Sam, do you _have_ to shove that hard?”  
“Just a little more, I almost got it.”  
“Oh, yeah, just a little, c’mon, Sam, _oh God Sammy_ , yes...”  
“DEAN!!”

“You know, Sammy, there’s only so high my leg will go.”  
“If we ever get out of here, I am _so_ going to kill you.”  
“No, you won’t.”  
“Don’t bet on it, Dean.”

“Just for your information, I’m actually starting to lose feeling in my leg. But don’t mind me or anything, Sam, take your time.”  
“If you would stop wriggling like that, I might be able to actually get my hands in your pants.”  
“Why Sammy, I never knew. All you’d have to do was ask.”  
“Sure you knew. Horny bastard.”  
“It’s not my fault your libido is crippled! A _normal_ man has needs, Sammy, and those exceed two times a week.”  
“I am so not having this conversation _again_.”  
“C'mon, Sam.”

“Hah! Dean, I got it.”  
“What?”  
“Your flashlight.”  
“And here I thought we were just beginning to have fun, Sammy.”

“Damnit.”  
“What?”  
“Dean, it won’t work.”  
“You tried switching it on?”  
“Shut up, dickhead, _yes I did_.”  
“Huh.”

“Okay, so. Just for the record, Dean. Why do you even take a flashlight with you, stuffing it in the last reachable pocket on your body, when _it’s got no friggin batteries inside_? And what are we doing here, anyways?”  
“I told you, Sam. I forgot the EMF at our last crime scene. They thought it was evidence and bagged it, and now we need to get it back.”  
“And you thought it would be so much more fun for me to pick the locks of the evidence cage _without any light_?”  
“...”

“Dean? Dean! Answer me.”  
“Actually, you were the one who gave me the flashlight.”  
“I thought you’d have the brains to check it beforehand!”  
“I thought you already did that, Sam!”  
“It was your job, Dean!”  
“Was not! Never has been.”  
“Whatever. I’m tired of this. Let’s take plan B.”  
“Which would be...?”  
“...”

“You can stop grinding your teeth and spit it out anytime now, Sam.”  
“How rusty have your flirting with female police officers skills gotten?”  
“I thought you said if I hit on any more-”  
“ _Don’t_ remind me. And don’t think that this is anything more than a one time exception. It is a one time exception _only_ , Dean, because I’m too fucking tired to put up with your shit any longer.”  
“Yes, Officer.”  
“Get outta here.”

***

“Uh, Sam?”  
“What?”  
“Why are we back in the closet?”  
“Forgot something here last time.”  
“And what would that be?”  
“To fuck you senseless.”  
“Who knew you had a kink for public places, Sammy?”  
“Shut up, Dean, and kiss me.”

***

It took Dean a whole day to walk properly again. A visit to the chiropractor to relocate two vertebrae. Three days for the red, angry marks the handcuffs had left on his wrists from when Sammy tied him to one of the cages to disappear. A week for the bruise on his shoulder and the bite mark on his thigh to fade. All in all, though, Dean thought his plan had worked out nicely.


End file.
